The saga continues, like a Halloween horror movie sequel or a Star Wars excuse for merchandising spin-off/splinter story. I’ve been relying on this car for my daily get-a-body-where-it-needs-to-go duties which seem to never be less than 100 miles and I am impressed by how good it is. Starts right up, flies down the freeway and stops pretty good. Given how much I had to do to bring it this far, a little thing like the clutch master acting up is no more than an irritation.
Like it supposedly is with people, what’s on the inside matters most. Here we have a rusty grungy exterior and a virginal interior. Baby drank some bad DOT3. When I opened it up the assembly was sticking in some old black gooey fluid that brake cleaner took care of.